


One Course Meal of Rainbow Pills

by mychemicallyromance



Series: Courses [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schizophrenia, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:24:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1717052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mychemicallyromance/pseuds/mychemicallyromance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Locked up, drugged up, poked and prodded, and lied to for almost seven years. I was always, somewhat, alone. I never made any friends and no one really wanted to talk to me because they all knew I wouldn’t talk back. I barely made eye contact. I ignored the world in the way the world ignored me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey :D

_The door shook and the knob wiggled and twisted. I closed my eyelids tightly and pulled the covers over my head. I tried to steady my breathing, but to no avail. I curled into fetal position, hoping, praying, that He thought I was asleep. The door creaked open and His footsteps got louder, and when they finally stopped, I let out a little whimper when I felt hands on me._

_“Knew you were awake, Frankie,” He whispered, “turn over.”_

I woke up with a startle and a cry, and I jumped out of the bed then onto the cold floor. My face was wet with tears and sweat, my body was visibly shaking. I got startled again when there was a knock on the door. I let out a deep breath before remembering that I’m locked into a mental institute…there’s no He. No matter where I feel him on me or near me, staring, He’s not there.

“Frank?” Nurse, Shae, said. “You okay?”

I swallow and walk to the door to open it. I wish I could speak; it’d be much easier. But I can’t. Fear consumes my abilities to talk, sometimes. When I walked to the door, I opened it and saw Shae there looking at her clock. She looked worried.

“Ah, you’re okay.” She smiled. “Wanna tell me why I heard you scream?”

I shook my head, I didn’t like talking—well, more like writing what happened to me. No one thinks what I had to say was real. _“It’s not real, Frank,”_ is what they’d all say. They diagnosed me with schizophrenia and drugged me up. Although they think I take the pills, I don’t because I know that I’m not schizophrenic. It’s just bad memories and fear that’s controlling me.

I’ve been this way since I was ten. Locked up, drugged up, poked and prodded, and lied to for almost seven years. I was always, somewhat, alone. I never made any friends and no one really wanted to talk to me because they all knew I wouldn’t talk back. I barely made eye contact. I ignored the world in the way the world ignored me. No one listened to what I had to say, no one cared. They watched me in pain but never helped. Why should I help someone if they’re not going to do the same as me?

“Okay,” Shae said, disappointed. “You’ve got a meeting with Dr. Foster at 7:30. Don’t be late.” Despite her warnings, I’m always late. Not extremely late, but maybe ten to twenty minutes late. If you’re too late, then you’d get in trouble.

I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that I had twenty minutes until the meeting. I sighed and gathered my belongings to go shower. The walk to the shower room was short and quiet. The only noise that was made was little chatter between the nurses, orderlies, and doctors, and the food carts.  When I arrived to the showers, one of the orderlies looked at me and led me inside.

“Ten minutes,” his stern voice said. The sternness in his voice made me flinch.

I hurried with my shower and that must have been the first time in seven years. The orderlies gave me an odd look. They knew my showers took a while. I choked back a noise when one of them followed me to my room. _He_ used to do that every time I got out of the shower. I rushed to my room, put my clothes on and rushed to Dr. Foster’s office.

“Hello Frank,” Dr. Foster said. “You’re…early.” He gave me an odd look and ushered me to my seat. Dr. Foster handed me a notebook and a pencil to write for our session. He smiled before sitting down at his desk.

Dr. Foster was a middle-aged man, blue eyes, brown hair and a tiny bit of stubble. He was tall, but a lot of people are taller than me. Dr. Foster looked intimidating, but, honestly, he couldn’t hurt a fly. Despite his intimidating look, everyone gets along with him. I was first afraid of the man until he never gave up on talking to me. At first, I narrowed that down to him being a counselor but after my first week here, and he was still here, I noticed he only wanted to make friends and help, unlike some therapists. Although he stuck to my medical records and didn’t believe anything I said, he was nice about it. It wasn’t the normal, harsh words I was used to listening to.

  
“So, tell me, Frank,” he cleared his voice, “how was your morning?”

I opened to a clean page of the notebook and began to write. I wrote: ‘It was okay, yours?’

“Mine was great. Shae reported that she heard you wake up screaming, correct?”

I nodded and wrote: ‘Bad dream, I guess.’

Dr. Foster nodded and sighed. “Same thing as last time or was there something different?”

For the past three weeks, it’s been the same thing. I’m surprised I still fall asleep at night. I shrugged and nodded. It’s always been the same room I slept in as a child, same noises, vividness, and every other detail, too. It never changes and I don’t think it ever would, either.

“It is the same thing?” he guessed. I nodded. “Frank, other than us talking about our days, I’d like to tell you about something.”

I wrote: ‘Go on.’

“Well, this facility is getting pretty packed. And you barely made any attempt at making recovery and making friends.” I looked down.  Dr. Foster is kicking me out.

“I’m not kicking you out. You’re one of my best, stubborn patients, Frank, but in rooms there’s normally two beds…” he trailed off. My eyes widened and I froze for what seemed like ever. I shook my head once his words came back to me. There would be a new person in my room.

“The patient will be staying in your room until we can fix Wing-C up and add another room,” Dr. Foster finished. “His name is Gerard.”

I wrote: ‘Oh. When?’

“Gerard will be arrived around…9:30AM. You’re dismissed from this meeting, Frank. But if anything worries you, come to me. I’m here to listen.” He smiled, warmly.

I walked out of the office and into my room. I liked that it was quiet in here, and that I was alone. I didn’t have to worry about any screaming besides my own. Who knows why Gerard is here. Gerard could be a psychotic serial killer, and they’d be putting me in the same room. Maybe he’s just like me…quiet, alone, depressed, and drugged up with a fake illness that only the doctors think he has but in reality, all he has is trauma scarring him?

 

9:30 rolled around pretty quickly, not my liking. I wasn’t even finished cleaning. I had a lot of unwanted paper and dirty clothes. I sighed when there was a knock on my door, and when I went to open it, there were two orderlies holding the new guy. Gerard was pretty decent-looking, and he seemed to be only a couple years older. He was struggling out of the orderlies’ grips and laughing. The guy was crazy. Why would anyone be laughing this early in the morning and this depressing of a place?

The stern-voiced orderly pushed Gerard inside my room, and I could see a bed being moved in. Dr. Foster was help carrying it and moving it into the room. I moved out of the way and sat on the bed. When the bed was situated into the corner, I saw Gerard sit on it and have the springs creak. Gerard laughed. He must’ve been on some type of drug.

“Hey, Doc, where’s the food?” Gerard asked Dr. Foster.

“In the cafeteria, Gerard,” Dr. Foster said. “Frank could help you.”

I nodded to Dr. Foster and Gerard. Gerard got off the bed and followed me to the cafeteria where people were slowly filtering in for breakfast. I sat at a random table as I waited for Gerard to grab his breakfast, and come back. He walked back to me with two pieces of toast and an orange juice. He opened his napkin and unfolded it, then wrapped it around his neck.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked. I shook my head no. “You don’t talk, do you?”

I shook my head. I haven’t talked in seven years. Not once have I slipped. It’s the only thing I ever did that was great. I patted myself to find my little notebook and I wrote down: ‘Why are you in here?’

“Everyone thinks I hurt myself just because I was on drugs. It wasn’t me who burnt myself!” Gerard started to crack up. “It was my brother! But only they don’t believe me because he’s dead.”

Gerard’s more than crazy, he’s more insane than anything.

“You probably think I’m nuts, too, right?” he laughs. “Why are you in here?”

I didn’t like talking about why I was in here. I got up and left. I heard a faint mutter of, “Not fair, dude!” behind me.


	2. Chapter 2

When Gerard finished his breakfast, he ran after me and into the room. He was in a giggling fit, yet again. He pushed into me and I fell on the bed, and hit my head against the metal headboard. I let out a sound and that startled him. Gerard quit laughing and looked concerned, but as he stepped closer to me I couldn’t help but let out a noise louder than a whimper.

“Hey, calm down,” Gerard said, officially stopped walking closer to me. “Did…did I do something?”

I closed my eyes and counted to ten before opening them again. I looked at Gerard’s concerned, hazel-green eyes and I shook my head to his question. I patted myself down until I found my notebook and wrote: ‘I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.’ But obviously, he’s nosy and decided to annoy me.

“Seriously, what happened?” he asked. “Is your head okay?”

I nodded and wrote: ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

“I told you my issue. It’s only fair if you tell me yours. Dude, I won’t judge you.” Gerard sat on his bed and I slowly sat up on mine.

I had a small debate in my head about whether or not I should tell him. After all, I had only just met him not even a full hour ago. I decided to only tell him the censored version of my story; the other traumatic details are staying out. I decided to tell him how I got here and how long it’s been.

I wrote: ‘I’ll tell you, but I’m not speaking.’

I wrote down when I was sent here. At the age of eight, I had always been yelled at and everyone said I was making up stories and lied. I was no liar, I was telling the truth that someone one was beating me. My mother put me in a counselor after she heard that I was crying almost every day at school. She was always drunk or high, and the things I’d tell her, she’d never believe me. Once I was seeing a counselor, I tried telling him but no one believed me. When I was ten, the counseling never worked and the beatings only had gotten worse. That’s when I found a razor and started to harm myself. My mother had caught me doing that and right next to me was a full bottle of pills. I was no stupid child; I knew how to kill myself…if I truly wanted to do that. And I did want to kill myself.

My mother picked me up by the hair of the head and admitted me to the cheapest mental institute she could find. And ever since then, I’ve been in the same place. She used to visit me but for the past three-four years, I haven’t seen her. I chalked it up to what happened last time—I told her I never wanted to see her again until she believed me and divorced that lousy man I had to call a father and what she had to call a ‘hubby’. I have no clue as to if she’s still alive or not, but I don’t care anymore. I also wrote down that the doctors think I have schizophrenia when I don’t. It doesn’t even run in my family.

After I finished writing, I gave Gerard everything I wrote down. It took him a while to read and when he was finished, I heard him let out a long, deep breath before saying, “And I thought I had it bad.” Gerard looked up at me before muttering, “I’m sorry, Frank.”

I shrugged my shoulder and wrote: ‘It’s whatever.’

“But it’s not. Who—your dad kept beating you?” he asked. I nodded. “That’s…that’s child abuse. Why did no one believe you? Jesus Christ, this world is messed up.”

I nodded and wrote: ‘Yes.’

“When was the last time you saw your dad?”

‘Last time I saw my mom,’ I wrote. ‘He’s bound to show up again,’ I added.

“I won’t let that happen, Frank,” Gerard said, sadly. “I promise. You’re my new friend, and you’re the first to not…laugh at me when I told you what happen to me. I don’t care if you don’t speak back, and that you got PTS or whatever. I’m here. I’ll protect you, Frank.”

I smiled before writing: ‘Thank you.’

“You’re welcome.” Gerard walked over to my bed and sat down beside me. “How old are you?”

’17,’ I wrote. ‘You?’

“Twenty-one, I’m old,” Gerard laughed. I shook my head.

I wanted to ask what happened to his brother and why he thought it was his brother who burned him or scarred him, or whatever. Maybe he went on an acid trip or something that made him hallucinate. My mother did that once. It was some scary stuff witnessing as a child.

‘What drugs did you take?’ I wrote.

“Weed, cocaine, and a lot of illegal shit,” he whispered. “I’m clean now. And I have been for a solid month.”

I narrowed my eyes. ‘You look like you were high or something earlier,’ I wrote.

Gerard chuckled. “Nah, I just like messin’ with people.” Gerard turned over so he was facing me. “You’re really beautiful, Frank. I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt you. You’re so small.”

I shrugged and wrote: ‘It’s alright.’

Gerard shook his head. “No, no it’s not alright, Frank. No one needs to have an abusive hand lain on them.” Gerard took the notebook out of my hands and said, “Listen here, Frank. I just, you seem sweet and scared. I want to be your friend but if I ever cross the boundary or scare you, tell—well, smack me. Okay?” I laughed a little. “Your laugh is cute.”

I could feel my cheeks turn red and I tried to hold in another giggle, but it was difficult. It finally busted out of me and that’s when I knew my wall was broken down by one simple person who I barely knew. He broke that wall around me and my heart that I worked on for seven years. Not even my doctors, orderlies or nurses could break that wall, but Gerard did. There was no point in rebuilding it, considering he would just break it down again. He was going to be there for me when no one else ever was. It was probably fate that sent him here, wasn’t it? Whoever sent me Gerard, I want to thank them. I finally have a true friend. Who knows how long Gerard’ll stay here in this facility or if we’ll ever be more than friends, but what I do know is someone—besides the doctors—got to see my weak side and is still there. Gerard said he’d try and protect me.

And this is a new beginning for us.


	3. Chapter 3

I’ve learned that Gerard is quite the talker, and he doesn’t mind that I’m selectively mute. He understands that I can’t speak even if I wanted to. Everyone besides Dr. Foster and Shae, tried to make me talk. Once they realized I wouldn’t, they’d give up. Other people would call me retarded and mute, and although their words never hurt me, they would just come back. It made me confused. If they thought I was stupid, then why’d the come back to talk to me? Were they determined to _make_ me speak when I was so obviously wasn’t comfortable or going to?

Every time Gerard wanted to converse with me, he’d make sure I’d have a pencil, or pen, and my notebook. He waited until I was finished writing, and he never complained. A lot of the people I had written to always complained that my writing was sloppy if I was quick, or if I took my time, then they’d complain at that, too. They were never happy with me. And for once, Gerard is happy and considerate. He’s not a total jerk like almost anyone I have ever met. 

Another one of the things that they’d always bug out of me was how I got here and why, and they kept bothering me. Although Gerard first forced it out of me, he never judged or asked for more information. Somehow, he could tell that was a touchy subject. I was afraid as to if he could tell more from the little that I told him. What if he figures out that I was molested or raped? But if he did, then he would’ve told me. Who knows? All I know is that he hasn’t gone back to the subject. He could tell that that conversation was closed and not being open again anytime soon. I thank him for that. Any other subject, he’s always nosy and asking questions. From everything that I could gather about Gerard, he’s nosy, funny, artsy, and very charming. He’s my first actual friend who talked to me, hasn’t given up, and actually cares.

“Frank?” Gerard said. “Can I ask you a question?”

I got my notebook out and wrote, ‘Sure.’

“You know how I told you that everyone thought it was me who harmed myself?” I nodded. “Well, half was the truth…and the other, well, it wasn’t.”

‘Explain,’ I wrote.

Gerard sighed. “Well, my brother was like my best friend. We rarely fought…and when he died, it got me so depressed. And I remember that we made a pack when we were younger…and I know the rest of the story will sound…insane? But please, believe me.”

‘I’ve heard and seen worse,’ I wrote.

“The drugs I got into made me hallucinate. Really badly, and it made me see him. I was smoking weed and I took some other stuff, and one night I played with an Ouija Board. I thought it was fake and you only see it in the movies, y’know? But…I started to see him.” Gerard sniffled. “He was really angry. I-I don’t blame him, either. I-I…abandoned him when I got to eleventh grade. I was so stressed out—I didn’t have time for anything besides drowning myself in booze and homework. But I remember the day before he died. He…wanted to go to the movies with me, but I told him no. He went anyway. He died by a drunk driver.”

I sat closer to Gerard as he went on. “But back to the story…well, when I saw him it had been a year or two since he died. I hadn’t been to the funeral or his grave. I was…I felt so guilty, and I knew I wasn’t meant to be there. But Mikey—my brother, he told me to die and I told him no. He got really angry, and then he was gone. I felt a cold chill and something else. It seemed that he, like…controlled my body then because the next thing that I had known was a knife being held to my wrist as I held my arm over the burner on the stove. Luckily it only left a small scar, and my parents walked in when the stove turned on. And then…that weird feeling left. That’s when I saw my brother leave again and that’s when everything fell down around me. My parents started yelling at me and cursing at me, and they were very curious as to why I was about to burn myself but then they knocked that down to me being high. But that’s not what happens normally to me when I get high. Although, they never touched drugs or even saw me high or getting high before that night. Anyway, it was me but at the same time…it wasn’t.”

‘I believe you,’ I wrote down. ‘I actually wonder if this stuff is real, if there is an afterlife. Not my entire family was jerks. My grandma…she was amazing.’

Gerard looked surprised and said, “Really?” I nodded and he hugged me. “Thank you, Frank.”

‘You’re welcome,’ I wrote down.

“Do you have any more stories?” Gerard asked. “I want to get to know you more.”

I nodded. “Kind of, they’re not that interesting.”

“Tell me anyway.” Gerard, at that exact moment, looked like a child who was about to open presents on Christmas day. He didn’t look twenty-one, at all. He looked like a child with his tiny-teeth smile.

I wrote to him about how my grandma always tried to take me and when she could, she’d stuff me full of cookies and apple juice. She’d watch Disney movies with me and make popcorn, and we’d go out for ice cream. It all stopped one year because my mom and I moved away from my dad when they got a divorce but that divorce didn’t last long. It had only lasted about a year until they had gotten back together. And I had thought he changed and was a new person, but he only changed for my mom. He didn’t change for me. After a while, I figured out that my grandma was dead and that devastated me because she was my only escape.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” Gerard said after I was finished writing and he read.

‘It’s fine,’ I wrote.

“How bad did it get?” he asked, quietly. Almost as if he didn’t want me hearing.

I took a deep breath and wrote, ‘Really bad…but it never left bruises.’

Gerard looked at me. “Let me get this straight. Your mother, who was by you almost all the time, never saw anything different about you? Did you ever act differently?”

‘I tried telling her, but she didn’t listen. I would wake up crying, screaming, and she would just whisper that it was a bad dream and that I should go back to bed,’ I wrote. ‘I wasn’t public-schooled. I was homeschooled.’

“I don’t understand this world anymore.”

‘Same, but she was so head-over-heels for my so-called father that she didn’t even pay attention to me. She thought about her own self and her drugs. She didn’t think about me.’

“Why didn’t your grandmother do anything?”

‘I never told her. My mother would be sobered up by the time she got to our house.’

Gerard nodded. “No one cares anymore, do they? All they care about is their own selfish needs! Parents can’t even care for their children.” Gerard seemed to be talking to himself. “I swear, if I ever see your mom or father, I’m having a word with them.”

‘No! Gerard, no,’ I wrote. ‘Please. Don’t.’  I was so worried that when the next time it’s visitors day, that they’d show up. I would try to handle it myself, but I can’t. I can’t even talk. I doubt I’ll ever be able to stand-up in front of my father. I remember the last time he was here.

“What’s wrong, Frank?” Gerard whispered, noticing that I was lost somewhere in my head. “What’re you thinking about?”

‘I’m thinking about the last time I saw my father,’ I wrote.

“What happened?”

The last time I saw my father had caused a seen in the family room. My father sat beside me and he told me to go to my room. We walked there and he sat on my bed. I just stood by the door, I was too afraid to even sit near him. My father had noticed and he dragged me to my bed, and forced me to sit down. My father looked at me and his strong, brown eyes looked like daggers. He looked like he got involved with drugs just like my mother did. His skin was sunken in and his finger nails had looked yellow, and his teeth looked almost rotted. His breath stunk with every word he said.

I remember the way he placed his palm on my hand, as if comforting me. And I let out a whimper. He tried placing his hand over my mouth and I bit him, hard. He let out a shriek and that alerted one of the orderlies walking by the door. When they walked in, they had asked what happened. My father’s deep, Italian voice said, _“This brat bit me!”_   And the next thing I know is I’m getting a sedative because I went into hysterics and he was walking out of my room with the orderlies.

 “Dang,” Gerard muttered. “When…when is the next visiting day?”

‘In five days,’ I wrote with sloppy writing. I could feel my hands tremble because I thought He might visit. I was always afraid he would. It terrified me, but it wasn’t just only because I knew Gerard would do something—it was the fact that there would be my father (if he came) and Gerard. Somehow, I knew Gerard was a fighter.

‘Have you ever been in a fight?’ I wrote.

Gerard laughed. “Actually, yeah, I have been throughout my lifetime.”

‘Not to insult you, but have you been good in them?’ I wrote.

Gerard nodded. “Yeah, I broke a guy’s nose once. I was drunk, and this guy…he just, started to grind against me. And I was just like what? So I told him to back off. He didn’t and I punched him right in the nose.”

I giggled and wrote, ‘Did he back off?’

“Yes,” Gerard said. “Why did you doubt I couldn’t fight?” Gerard winked.

‘You’re like a giant teddy bear,’ I wrote down. ‘You just remind me of a teddy bear.’

“Should I take that as a compliment or…?” Gerard laughed.

‘Yes,’ I wrote.

“Are my hugs like a teddy’s, too?” he said before hugging me.

I hugged Gerard and he felt so warm. He had a certain smell that wasn’t sterile-smelling, but it wasn’t bad. He didn’t smell like the other patients in this mad house. He had a special smell and I never wanted to get rid of it. His hugs were also like a teddy’s and I would admit. He was a teddy. He was my teddy.I nodded in the crook of his neck.

Surprisingly, this was my first hug in seven years.


	4. Chapter 4

When the hug was over, I giggled and so did he. I pulled away and I got my notebook, and I wrote, ‘Yes.’ Gerard blushed and I had thought it was the cutest thing, ever. I would have never thought Gerard would blush, but after all, we hadn’t met too long ago. But still, I didn’t think someone like Gerard would blush so easily.

‘You’re cute,’ I wrote down, ‘especially when you blush.’

“Stop it,” he said, but in a playful way.

I shook my head and laughed as well. My stomach had to ruin the moment with it’s loud growling, and that made my cheeks turn red from embarrassment. I looked down and inside my head I told it to shut it. The moment with Gerard was better but Gerard heard it, and he laughed. He wasn’t making fun of me, he was just giggling because of the noise. I didn’t think Gerard would ever make fun of me.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” Gerard said. Gerard got up with me and walked with me to the kitchen, and helped me get a tray despite me shaking my head. All he said was, “I’m being a gentleman.” I wish I could’ve talked and came back with a smart remark, but I scowled at him and laughed when he wiggled his eyebrows.

I shook my head and took the tray before he could do anything. We walked to our table, and I realized that it used to be mine. However, it isn’t anymore because it’s _ours_. I hadn’t had anyone sit at my table for at least two-three years, and I didn’t really care. But now that Gerard is here, I remembered how alone I felt but never realized. I tried to ignore that it made me feel sad, but I didn’t want Gerard to worry too much, but obviously he noticed there was something wrong.

“What’s up?” he whispered. “Wait. You left your notebook in your room. Do you want me to go get it?” Before he could even fully stand up from the table, I grabbed his hand and shook my head. I saw him reach behind himself and grab his sketch book. He opened it up and gave me a pencil and a clean page. “Here. Write in here, I don’t mind.”

I hesitated before I took the pencil. ‘Don’t leave,’ I wrote. Gerard looked at me funny before sitting down. ‘I just have thoughts,’ I wrote before handing Gerard his stuff back.

Gerard nodded, as if he understood. “What do you mean? What’re your thoughts?” He pushed his stuff back in front of me.

‘Of being alone,’ I wrote. ‘I used to be alone and lonely, and I just realized how it felt. I’m not alone anymore, right?’

“Of course you’re not alone anymore, Frank.” Gerard turned so he was facing me. “I’m here, whether you want me here or not.”

‘Really?’ I wrote, and Gerard nodded. He waited patiently as I ate my breakfast, and when I looked away and down at my tray, Gerard got the sketchbook and started drawing me. My eyes turned wide and I shook my head. I mouthed a ‘no’ and that’s when I realized that was the first time I ever mouthed anything to anyone, all I have ever done to communicate with anyone was write. My eyes felt like they went wider. I knew I was over reacting, but this boy kept making me break down my walls. Soon enough, what if he had me talking? That was a scary thought, honestly, even though I wanted to speak. It’d make everything easier.

Gerard’s smirk told me he understood. “Too late,” he said. “You’re too beautiful not to draw. Why hasn’t anyone drawn you?” The last part seemed to be for him, and it wasn’t an actual question. However, the first part made me blush.

Whenever I was around Gerard, I realized he was breaking down my walls and made me forget about my past I used to think about almost all the time. He distracted me and I wish I could thank him, but I can’t because of the obvious. I looked at him as he concentrated drawing me, and I laughed quietly because he stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth. He was terribly pretty and it made me jealous because I knew I wasn’t beautiful, at all. I thought I was ugly, and I knew if I argued with Gerard about that he’d tell me to stop and that I was beautiful. But that’s not true, because I’m not. Gerard’s the beautiful one.

I ignored my thoughts and looked at Gerard’s drawing, and the picture looked exactly like me. He made me look like what I saw myself. There was me in his sketchbook, and every detail was correct, and it wasn’t cartoonish like his other sketches. It was perfect, and when he was finished I saw him write at the top, “GW” and the date. I wondered what the ‘W’ stood for, and I pointed at it.

“That’s the initial for my last name,” he said. “It’s Gerard Way.” I nodded and smiled, his name fit just right for him. “What’s yours?” He handed me a clean page and his pencil.

‘Iero,’ I wrote.

“Sounds Italian,” he said.

‘It is,’ I wrote again.

“Cute. A cute Italian boy,” he said with a wink. I hid my face with my hands because I lit up like the red Christmas decorations. I shook my head and started laughing. “With a cute laugh, nonetheless,” he added on.

It felt like all the blood rushed to my face, at least it was better than other places. I got the pencil again and wrote, ‘Are you determined to kill me?’ Gerard laughed and shook his head.

“Nah, you have years until you can die, if I allow it.” Gerard realized I was finished with my breakfast and took my tray to throw away the trash.

 I followed Gerard and we walked to our room. He opened the door for me and I walked in. He sat on the bed with me. I saw him rip the sketch of me out of his sketchbook, and sit it on my nightstand. I looked at it and smiled. Gerard obviously understood my thankfulness. I hugged him because that was the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me. Despite the fact that I thought I was ugly.

“For you,” he whispered when we pulled back from the hug. “And only for you,” he said with a small smile.


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the week went exactly the same: morning, breakfast, talking with Dr. Foster in group sessions, Gerard, lunch, Gerard…Gerard…and then dinner with Gerard, and lastly, bed. It was the most amazing time, but when I woke up the next morning, I realized it’s visiting day. I curled under my blanket and tried not to be scared. There was a very low possibility that my father would show up, but I was scared nonetheless. And of course, Gerard noticed and he walked over to my bed to sit down. When he rubbed my back, it didn’t help because my gut-feeling said that he would show up. Somehow I knew.

And when it was twelve o’clock, everyone had to walk to the cafeteria even if there was no one visiting them. But Gerard took my hand and we walked to our table. That had been the first time I had ever held hands with Gerard or anyone. I looked at our hands clasped together and I looked at him. I smiled at him and he smiled back, but my smile vanished when I heard the doors open and people coming through. I looked over and saw my mother and father with the orderlies. My father had dressed up and my mother seemed to be dressed fancy. All of this was totally off, weird and scary, but I swallowed and I hid mine and Gerard’s hands under the table.

My mother and father walked closer to our table and I closed my eyes. I began to tremble when my father sat next to me and my mother sat next to Gerard. I looked at my mother and I saw how she had changed. Although she was still thin, her face wasn’t sunken in but my father’s was. They both looked utterly depressed and I had no sympathy for them. I don’t know why they bothered to visit.

“Hi,” my mother’s tiny voice broke the awkward silence. “How’re you, Frank?”

I didn’t bother answering her and I felt Gerard’s eyes on me. I looked back at him and then looked away from his strong gaze. He sighed and got out his sketchbook, and then I saw him begin to shove it my way.

“He doesn’t talk,” Gerard said.

“He’s mute?” my mother asked, shocked and worried.

Gerard shook his head. “No, he’s selectively mute.”

“So…he can talk, he’s just stubborn and can’t,” my father butted in with his monotone, Italian voice. I wished he didn’t talk or butt in to the conversation he wasn’t even invited into.

“No, more like his anxiety causes him not to,” Gerard snapped. I could see that Gerard was holding back from yelling at my father.

“Franklin, start talking,” my father growled. “You don’t have anxiety.”

“Actually, yeah he does,” Gerard said.

“Boy, no one asked you,” my father said. “I don’t know who you think you are but you weren’t invited to this conversation.”

“Neither were you, but here you are butting into something that wasn’t even for you to butt into,” Gerard retorted. “Also, I’m not a boy, _sir_ ,” Gerard spat. “I think you should go.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Gerard began to rub his thumb over the back of my hand, he was trying to comfort me but it wasn’t working. I could feel a panic attack coming on.

“You can’t tell me what to do, young man,” my father said. “You boy, have no right, actually.”

“Actually, yeah I do. It’s called American rights, stupid.”

“I came here to see my son, faggot.” My mother gave my father a dirty look and my father gave Gerard a dirty look.

“Excuse me? You’re calling _me_ a faggot? Why don’t you go look at yourself before spitting out words, you hypocrite,” Gerard yelled. He stood up and walked over to my father. My father stood up and they seemed to be the same height, and I felt like my world was spinning because Gerard’s soft hand wasn’t in mine anymore. It was balled up and ready to punch my father.

“I haven’t done anything!” My father’s voice rose. I remember many times when I was a child and how his voice rose, louder and louder.

_I was home alone with my father, my mother was working her second job and it was a nightshift. My father was somewhat drunk and he pushed me onto my bed. He kept ordering me to take off my pants, but I didn’t listen. I was just too shocked from being pushed._

_“Get your pants off!” my father yelled._

_I still hadn’t listened and he yanked them off._

I choked back a cry and I saw my father look at me. Gerard’s face softened and he saw that I was miserable. He saw that I was scared, but when he looked back at my father, he scowled and I knew Gerard was holding back. He was trying so hard not to punch my father because he knew he’d be locked in solitary. He knew that I needed him but he was so furious that it made _him_ shake.

“That’s a lie,” Gerard said through his teeth. “Don’t think he hasn’t told me what happened between you two. The rest I figured out, you lowlife.”

So Gerard did figure out the rest. I felt so embarrassed that he knew I was raped and molested. I wondered briefly before I was out of my thoughts by a loud smack across Gerard’s face. My father had laid a hand on Gerard and I heard my mother’s gasp. I heard footsteps behind me and the orderlies escorted my parents out of the building, and then that’s when the tears left my eyes and fell.

I had been holding them in and Gerard stood there shocked before looking over at me. He saw my tears and I got up from the table, and I ran to the bathroom. I went into a stall and broke down. It had been the first time in what seemed like a long time that I had actually cried. I cried long and hard, and when Gerard found me, he tried knocking and seeing if I would let him in. I ignored him and it wasn’t because I was mad—I wasn’t mad, at all. It’s just from the pain of seeing my father and the happiness because I have someone like Gerard, but now that he saw the man who was supposed to love me, he got slapped and felt pain that I had felt almost every day.

“Frank…” Gerard whispered when my sobbing quit. “C’mon, let me in.”

I sniffled and unlocked the door. Gerard got inside the stall with me and hugged me. The warmth of his hugs made me cry again and it wasn’t sad tears, it was happiness. I could feel that Gerard actually cared about me.

“I’m sorry you saw me that way,” Gerard murmured.


	6. Chapter 6

 

The rest of that day was spent in my room and in Gerard’s arms. Once while I lay in Gerard’s arms, I heard Gerard’s stomach rumble. I felt bad and I wish I could’ve told Gerard that he could go eat dinner, but somehow he knew what I was about to write when I sat up. He shook his head and made me lie down again. I sighed and placed my head back on his chest. Gerard ran his fingers through my hair and teased it. It was so comforting and I could feel myself falling asleep but I tried not to. I wanted to cherish this time in his arms. He was my comfort and shield. I looked up at him and he looked down at me, and he smiled.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at your father but…he—just. I couldn’t help it, you know? And I should’ve talked to you when I figured out what happened between you two. My cousin used to get beat by his step-father, and later we figure out that he was getting more than beatings,” Gerard said. “It hurts to know that someone so beautiful like you to be hurting like that.” Gerard shook his head and I could see that his eyes were watering but he was holding them back, and he was trying to keep himself together.

I looked down, ashamed. I was making him cry this time, and I shouldn’t have told him because my pain was hurting him. But he was breaking down my walls and sometimes I can’t help but tell him how I feel. It made me so sad because before I know it he’d get me talking. I had a feeling one of these days I would blurt something out and it’d be his fault. But I wouldn’t be mad at him. I could feel myself falling for him.

“Frank, I have to tell you something.” Gerard’s voice was serious. I nodded, willing him to go on. “Alright, and this is making me have a lot of guts to say this. Please don’t laugh, okay?” I nodded again. We both sat up, and I turned to face him and he faced me. Gerard closed his eyes before saying, “I like you. And I’m not good with others, but I feel brave enough to say all of this because—actually, I don’t know. All I know is that I like you. You’re such an amazing person. I don’t care that you don’t speak and I’m sorry about your past but I don’t think different of you. I don’t hold it against you and I never plan to either.”

I could feel my eyes watering and I tried to keep them in, but it was so hard. I felt a lone tear fall down my cheeks and I felt Gerard’s thumb rub away the stray tear. His hand and fingers were soft, comforting. I loved his touches and they didn’t make me feel bugs like when others touch me. I smiled at him and he smiled back, and whispered, “You’re so beautiful, Frank.”

My cheeks turned red and I closed my eyes. I tried to hold my giggles in. I wasn’t laughing at Gerard, I was laughing because that’s what I do when I blush. It makes things so difficult. I lay back on the bed and covered my red face. It was probably red as a tomato and from Gerard’s face, I could see him smile. His child-like teeth showing and it was the most adorable thing, ever. I was falling fast and I could tell he was, too, but he was just scared to move fast because of my past. But I wish I could tell him that he could. Maybe it was best that we take this slow. Who knows?

“Just look at that blush,” Gerard teased, only making my face brighter. “It’s so adorable.”

I scowled at him and he lay back down with me. He places my head on his chest and my laughing stops. I felt and heard his heart beating, and it was comforting. I don’t know why, but it just did. It was even more comforting feeling his fingers going through my hair. I never wanted this moment to end. But I could feel my eyes slipping shut and it was getting harder and harder not to close them.

“You can sleep,” he whispered, knowing that I was fighting to stay awake. “I’ll still be here.”

 

XXX

 

I woke an hour later and I could still feel Gerard’s fingers in my hair. I looked up at him and he smiled, and I smiled. It looked like he had fallen asleep and woke up when I did. But if he did, at least he got some rest. I wish I could make him feel comfort, but I was shorter than him and couldn’t really relax someone.

“Hey beautiful,” he whispered, and then he yawned. “I just woke up, too. How about we go get dinner?”

I nodded and we got up. Gerard held out his hand and I gratefully took it, and we walked to the cafeteria. We saw that there was still some food and we grabbed some. We both ate and I could feel Gerard’s eyes on me as I picked at my food then eat it.

“Why do you eat like that?” he asked. I shrugged my shoulders and placed my head on his shoulder. Gerard looked down at me and he showed a lazy-smile before asking, “Everything okay?”

I nodded and began to eat again. The rest of the time we spent eating was in silence, but that was alright. What could we possibly say with our mouths full of food? Plus it’s rude. I was hungry and so was he. But I found it funny how he ate. He would go from taking big bites around the sandwich to then taking small bites or picking at it. He had gotten a little bit of peanut butter on the side of his mouth. I wiped it off.

“Thanks,” he said after chewing his food.

After dinner it was shower time, but Gerard stayed out of the bathroom to give me somewhat privacy. In this institute, the showers are half-closed. But everyone knows that I shower after everyone, but considering Gerard has been with me he hasn’t had time to shower. The orderlies even let him stay out while I took a shower. And when I was finished, clothed, and dried, I walked out and waited for Gerard. Gerard seemed to take longer, and when he was finished, we were both tired so we went to our rooms.

I lay on my bed and he lay, too. Gerard snuggled against me and placed my head on his chest again. Before we fell asleep again he whispered, “I like you. I’m here for you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so my birthday is in 2 days

_I lay on my bed and he lay, too. Gerard snuggled against me and placed my head on his chest again. Before we fell asleep again he whispered, “I like you. I’m here for you.”_

I woke up and I remembered Gerard’s words. They cycled through my head over and over again, they made me smile. I looked over and I saw Gerard was still sleeping, snoring and with his mouth slightly opened. I laughed and I saw him crack a smile.

I sat up and reached my notebook and pencil. ‘Faker,’ I wrote.

“I’ve been awake for the past ten minutes.” Gerard yawned and stretched. I had noticed his shirt was off; it must’ve gotten hot throughout the night. My eyes widened, however, and I could honestly get used to that sight. I should’ve been scared because of my past, but I wasn’t. Maybe it’s just because it’s Gerard. Who knows, but what I do know is that Gerard is _very_ attractive.

“Like what you see?” he teased, noticing my staring. I was embarrassment and I blushed. Gerard just laughed and said, “You’re just too cute.”

I placed a pillow over my red face to stifle my laughs. I was laughing so hard underneath the pillow that tears were coming out of my eyes and running down my cheeks. Gerard lifted the pillow off my face and wiped away the tears. He shook his head and he seemed to be dazing in my eyes. Gerard smiled and I smiled back at him, and I could feel myself falling. I wasn’t holding myself back anymore. It was finally time to let that wall break down and me to step out of the ruble.

“You’ve got such beautiful eyes,” Gerard said. “And your smile is amazing. Shall I say more?” I shook my head and laughed.

Gerard lifted his hand away from my face. I closed my eyes and I wasn’t expecting him to tickle me. When he tickled me, I let out a yelp and he let out a laugh. I started laughing. Gerard was tickling my neck, my sides and belly. When he got to my thighs…that’s when I panicked.

I yelped again and turned away from him. I curled into a fetal position and pulled the blanket over my face. I felt my heart racing and my breathing fast. I couldn’t control it and the memories of my father came back. I felt tears running down my cheeks. I tried stopping them, too, but I couldn’t because I felt Gerard’s hand on my hip. But I was too focused on the memories of my father.

“Frank,” Gerard whispered. I ignored him. “Frank, turn over. C’mon.”

Those words were the exact ones my father used. Every night my father would walk into my room, seeing if I was awake, and he would always say that. He would do horrible things to me. I didn’t understand him, and I hate him. I loathe him as much as I loathe myself. And that’s very high loathing.

“Frank…” Gerard said. “Please, Frank. I’m so, so sorry.”

Gerard peeled the blankets off my body and I saw that he was upset. He knew that I was in my head, thinking of the memories. I couldn’t do it. They haunted me. I don’t really know—well, for the most part—knows what triggers them. Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t.

Gerard turned me over and looked at me. He ran his fingers through my hair and held my hand. Finally, I looked at him. He saw my tear-stained face, and I felt his fingers wipe away the stray tears. I sighed and sat up.

“I…I don’t know what I was thinking, I shouldn’t have been near…there,” Gerard said, his voice wrecked was. I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at my knees, and then I got up to go to the bathroom that was in our room. I walked to the sink and washed my face, and when I was finished, I looked at Gerard. Gerard sighed and walked over to me. He hugged me and I cringed at first but then I hugged back. I sighed, too, and then we went to the cafeteria for breakfast.

We ate in silence, but it wasn’t our normal silence. It was awkward, but then Gerard broke the ice.

“Frank, I truly am sorry. Do you forgive me?” Gerard asked.

I looked at Gerard. I nodded and went back to eating my cereal. I didn’t even like the food here, but I was hungry. I made myself laugh when I looked at it because of my thoughts. _A man’s gotta eat_ , I had thought.

“What—why are you laughing?” Gerard asked.

I got out my notebook and pencil to write, ‘I made myself laugh.’

“How did you make yourself laugh?”

‘A man’s gotta eat,’ I wrote. Gerard just shook his head, briefly.

 

XXX

 

We went back to our normal selves, and I had my head on his chest and he had his fingers running through my hair. I had placed my ear where I could hear his heart beating. It was soothing, and I didn’t exactly know why. Part of me thought it was because now I know it’s not a dream that someone actually cares about me but the other thinks it’s the rhythm of the beats.

“Have you ever wondered what’d it’d be like to escape?” Gerard said.

I nodded. I had thought over and over again but never once had I acted out on the thought. I had thought what it’d be like to start an actual life with someone who loves me and I love them. Whether it was intimacy or friendship, I wanted someone to love me. I wanted to start something, something amazing. I didn’t want to be cooped up in this mad house for the rest of my life. Although, I know I wouldn’t because insurance runs out eventually and when I’m eighteen, I can decide…I think.

“I could take you with me when I leave,” Gerard said.

I shot up and grabbed my notebook. ‘When are you leaving?’ I wrote.

“Couple of weeks, but then again I don’t know. All I know is that it’s soon. Maybe this week,” he said.

I looked at him, utter shock. I didn’t want him leaving me alone. I hate being alone now, and I didn’t realize it until I fell for Gerard. I hate how everything good gets taken away from me. Everything I’ve ever wanted always got taken away and never given back. Now that Gerard talked about escaping, it made me want to follow him. I hope he lets me. Although, how would I escape?

‘I wanna go with you,’ I wrote.

“Frank, I…I don’t know how to get you out of here. I would love to. Escaping is really risky—and please trust me.”

‘Please.’

“Fine. I’ll figure out a way, okay?” Gerard sighed. “But please realize that you could get into trouble.” I nodded. I’d risk it, if I’m able to.

XXX

 

Every day I was worried as to when or if Gerard was leaving me. It felt like yesterday I just met him. I could tell that he likes me, and I’m pretty sure he can tell that I like him. I don’t know how he found out that I’m gay, but whatever. It is what it is and there isn’t anything I can do.

But eventually, around twelve o’clock his parents came through the doors on Visitor’s Day. I sat beside him and I noticed that there was his mom and dad. His parents sat beside each other and I sat next to Gerard. I looked at Gerard and Gerard looked at me before saying, “This is Frank.”

I put on a slight-smile and waved. I was nervous at meeting new people, sometimes. I shook their hands and we exchanged looks.

“Hey,” Gerard’s father and mother said at the same time.

“How’re you?” Gerard’s mother said with her delicate voice.

“I’m fine. I’m just really tired—they make us wake up early.”

“What time do they?”

“Uh, around 7:30AM,” Gerard said.

“That’s not that early. I wake up around 5:30 to go to work.”

“You’re right, but you guys know I like to sleep in,” Gerard chuckled. “Sleep is very important for a young mind.”

Gerard’s mother just shook her head and looked at me. “You’re quiet. Are you okay?”

“He’s fine, mom. It’s just that he’s selectively mute. He writes things down.”

“Would you like to talk, too?” she asked.                                             

I bit my lip and pulled out my small notebook. ‘Talk about what?’ I wrote.

“Anything! Tell us anything about you,” she said with a smile.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ I wrote down.

“It’s alright.”

“Oh! Gerard,” his father said, “you’ll be leaving by Friday.”


	8. Chapter 8

Gerard’s father’s words hit me like a bomb. They made my heart hurt and although Gerard and I haven’t known each other very long, it hurts to know that my friend, my crush, is leaving me. He likes me and I like him, and I don’t know how I’ll live without him. Since he’s been here my life and happiness lifted up. I wasn’t sitting around on my bed, disobeying orderlies or anything since Gerard got here. He helped me through everything. I remember one night that Gerard and I were asleep, and I had a nightmare about my past. When I woke up, I found myself crying and Gerard’s arms wrapped around me and his fingers going through my hair.

He truly liked me and I could tell that his father’s words hurt him, too. His parents left soon after and I went to my room. Gerard obviously followed me and he looked at me. I was holding back tears; I didn’t want him seeing me weak. I needed him to know that I’ll try to be strong without him because there isn’t a possible way for me to escape this mad house, and I’d be stuck here for one or two more years and although it’s not that long, I’ll be alone. And I hated it, but what other choice did I have?

“Frank,” Gerard said. I turned my back to him and went to my bed. I curled in fetal position and placed the blankets over my head.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Gerard tried taking the blankets off of me but I had a good grip on them. I didn’t need him seeing me like this. I wasn’t strong, at all. I can’t contain my tears, and that makes me weak. I’m too old to cry because someone is leaving me.

“I-I wish there was a way I could take you with me. But we both know that’s impossible,” Gerard’s voice cracked. I pulled the blankets off and looked at him. “I’ll miss you.”

I sat up and hugged my knees. Gerard sat on my bed and looked at me. I was pouting and Gerard lifted my chin. He made me look at him, and I did look. I looked at his eyes that were filled with tears. He was the strong one, obviously, and I was the weak one. But he was my life boat, my savior. I know that’s cheesy but it’s true. I was slowly drowning in my sorrows until he came along, broke down that damn wall that I built and I could see that he was trying to help me.

“I really, really like you, Frank,” he said. “I don’t know how you feel about me. But what I do know…is that I like you. There’s no one like you that I have ever met. Sure, you’ve had a bad past and I’m sorry. I wish I had been there to help you through that, but I’m here now. I know Friday is soon, too soon. But there’s nothing I can do, can I?” Gerard sighed before going on, “I mean, sure, yeah we can try and get you out of here. But who knows? We’ll get caught and you might be put in solitary or to a new facility.”

I grabbed my notebook and wrote, ‘Help me escape. I’ll risk it.’

_Two days later…_

It was around 2:30AM when Gerard and I woke up. We had made sure that our stuff was  packed before we were going to leave. I looked at Gerard and he looked at me, and he nodded. Gerard got up and peaked out the door to make sure the orderlies weren’t anywhere to be seen. I took a deep breath before leaving the room with Gerard. I showed him the backdoors where the doctors or orderlies leave. There was a code you’re supposed to enter and somehow I know it. Even though I knew that damn code, I never acted out on leaving. I was an idiot.

I entered the code and I waited for the red light to turn green. When it did, it let out a loud creaking noise and my heart started pounding in my chest. I pushed Gerard out the door and I rushed out with him. I could hear footsteps going to the door and I pushed Gerard into the nearby bushes and I followed suit. Through the bush I saw the orderlies and guards looking out the open door and everywhere to see who (or what, to them) opened the door.

My pounding heart wouldn’t calm down even when they closed the doors. Gerard grabbed me by the hand and yanked me up. We darted to the gates that no one looked after and ran. I cringed when they creaked.

That set off another alarm and yet again, we ran. We ran as fast as we could and we didn’t stop until we were at some house. I figured it was Gerard’s and I walked with him until he made a ‘sh’ sound and went in the house through a window by himself. Twenty minutes passed and he came out with money. He sighed and we sprinted off to a near motel. He signed us in and we went to a room that was decent.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Gerard said, disbelief.

All I did was nod and look at the time before crawling on the second bed. I curled into the covers and fell asleep. However, before I fell asleep I felt Gerard’s hands on my body and I heard him sigh.

_I was hiding underneath the bed, in hopes of my father’s drunken ass not finding me or giving up. I had made sure I made no noise, and the only reason I was hiding was because I broke something of his. I was in deep-shit and there was no going back, no apologizing because any word that I would’ve said to him made no difference of my guilt._

_When I heard that door opened, my heart raced and I heard his footsteps. He wasn’t a stupid drunk, but I had hopes that he hadn’t found me that night. But he did. I was yanked by my hair and drugged out from underneath the bed. I had been thrown onto the bed and I saw that he was taking his belt off. It had seemed like it was all in slow motion. And when it was finally off, it cracked against my child-soft skin. It echoed in the quite room, and I saw my mother past the room. She didn’t care. She didn’t care that her child was in so much pain._

_Once my father was done hitting me with his belt, I had small bruises and I had bled a little. However, the night wasn’t even close to being finished. My pants were already off; it didn’t take much struggle for him or me. I just let it happen because there was nothing going to stop him. Not my own mother who was high off her ass and drunk too._

_Once he was finished, he put his pants on. He looked at me and said, “Be a good boy. I had to attend to your mother.”_

I screamed. I woke up Gerard again, and I felt horrible. I looked at him and shook my head, and he must’ve understood me because he lay back down. He would sometimes give me looks and see if I was okay and wanted comfort, but if I shook my head, he’d leave me alone.

I couldn’t go back to sleep, though. I tried, and eventually bad thoughts had started to haunt me. There was no way in hell that this escaping plan would work, and there’s no way Gerard could help me through my past. I knew the only way to end the torture, pain, and memories. It’d hurt Gerard, but he’d be fine. He wouldn’t do the same stupid thing he did for his brother again. He didn’t want to be put back in that mad house.

I checked if Gerard was asleep and I noticed he was by his snoring. I walked to the motel door and stopped. I looked at the sticky-note paper and a pen. I went over there and wrote, ‘I love you.’ That’s when the water works started happening. I looked over at Gerard’s sleeping form, and walked over to him.

I took a deep breath before saying, “Goodbye, I love you.”

And that was the end for our story. There wasn’t going back because what’s the point? I had died.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Honestly, I wish the story had ended. But as soon as I had gotten to that cliff, it seemed my feet were stuck. They didn’t move, and everything but my heart stopped. My breathing stopped, I felt light-headed and all that I could hear was my heart thudding, and that could be heard in my eardrums. I sighed and turned around, walking. I didn’t know where to go, honestly. I didn’t want to go back to the motel. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life living in a motel or with Gerard’s parents. Gerard’s parents would probably send me back or something. I didn’t want Gerard living a miserable life with someone like me.

I laughed at myself. I could barely see in the dark street. Someone could kidnap me for all I care. I didn’t care anymore, and I just felt empty. I couldn’t jump off that damn cliff and left everyone alone. I was a weight on people’s shoulders. I was a weight on Gerard’s shoulders and the doctor’s. I wish I had never been born. Everything would’ve been so much better. I’m so sick and tired of being depressed, not getting anywhere.

I stopped at a stop sign to look around. Every car was in their right places near the houses, and there was flickering of a TV being left on because some person left it on. I saw the dark shadowed-figure sleeping and I wish I had a home. I wish I had the perfect family to go to, and I wish I had a real nice mom and dad. But no, I was born into Hell. If there’s a God, then why would he do this? Isn’t he supposed to do well?

I sighed and I started walking more. I looked around again. I heard noises, but I only marked it down to an animal. I had thoughts running through my head about trying to jump in front of a car, taking pills or just trying to jump off that cliff again. I was shaking and I couldn’t concentrate and it was a shock when I fell to the ground and hit my head, hard, because someone had grabbed me. I closed my eyes and tensed when I felt a hand on my face. But I recognized those hands and how soft they were but I couldn’t focus on them. I felt myself going under and I couldn’t stay awake.

XXX

I woke up and found that I was strapped to a bed, and I was in a really white room. The white almost hurt my eyes and I realized I was in a hospital. I groaned and looked over to see Gerard, he was asleep and I saw nurses passing by the door. I shifted a little and that must’ve waked Gerard up because he snapped awake.

“Hey,” he said in his thick morning-voice.

I looked away from him. I was slightly irritated that he brought me to a hospital, and I knew damn well they’d ask where I was, why in hell I was in the middle of the night, and where I stay. They’d check my medical records and send me back to the madhouse.

“Frank, look at me,” Gerard said. “I know you’re mad, you’re probably furious. But I had to…”

I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the bruises under his eyes. His eyes were also puffy from crying and his knuckles were covered in blood. He was a mess, and I saw that in him. He looked so tired and sad. It was my fault.

I wanted to say something but I wasn’t able to because a doctor came in with Dr. Foster. Dr. Foster made a ‘tsk’ noise before coming to my right side and the other doctor stood next to Gerard. They told us about my head bump and how everything will be okay. I ignored that part but when that doctor said, “You’ll be able to go back to your facility, Frank.” My ears perked up and I shook my head.

I looked at Gerard and he just sighed. It felt like my world was falling apart. There was nothing I could do or he could do. There wasn’t amount of sighing or shaking our heads that would stop them. I wanted to fight and I did as they unstrapped me. Dr. Foster wrapped his arms around my middle when I tried getting away. I had reached my arms out for Gerard but he didn’t reach back considering the other doctor was holding him back. We were being separated and the three words were stuck in my throat.

I was breathing heavily and I looked at Gerard and before he went out of the room I yelled, “I love you.”

It seemed everything stopped because I stopped struggling against Dr. Foster and Dr. Foster froze, too. But that didn’t stop the other doctor taking Gerard out of the room, but in the hall I heard, “Bye Frank, love you too,” from Gerard’s weak voice.

That’s when tears fell out of my eyes because I knew he was crying. I cried really hard as they led me back to the facility and into solitary confinement. I was alone, once again. In this tiny room, I was alone and I knew when I get out, I’ll be alone and Gerard’s bed would be gone.

Everything would be gone.

What a tragic love story that involved a selectively mute boy and a boy who didn’t even deserve me. I prayed that Gerard would be okay without me. Sure, he could visit me. But I really doubt he would even want to.

So, that’s how our story ended. There wasn't any romantic, runaway and live together forever. It was just harsh reality and he gave me happiness for a very short time. But I guess everything doesn't last forever, now does it?


End file.
